A Funny Thing (Republished)
by Dieren
Summary: Months after Zira's death, Kovu and Simba find themselves at odds and wonder if they'll ever be able to trust one another.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note,**

**This is a republished fic I originally posted in 2014 under a different pen name, but was deleted in 2017/2018 after I deleted my account and took a long break from publishing fics, which was the best decision for me at the time. I recently recovered the file (which did not convert well and I apologize for any bugs in formatting that were missed) and decided to throw it back online. Aside from a couple grammatical corrections, it's pretty much the same as if was when it was posted in 2014. For those just finding it for the first time, I hope you enjoy it!**

**Cheers, **

**\- Dieren**

* * *

He walked with a sense of forbidden satisfaction, treading deftly over the hard dirt path on dark paws. Behind him, the hazy red sun had begun to set, throwing his angular, lanky shadow before him. Ahead lay the ruins of sharp crags and looming tusks. The place blanketed in shadows, even in the brightest of daylight.

He was alone in his venture. His destination was a place of isolation, devoid of any semblance of life. A companion would distract him. He needed to think. He didn't know what about, just that reflection was called for. Now, he stood at the edge of the valley. It was a pit of ancient death, full of losses too far gone to be mourned, as if the bones that lay strewn and haphazard never had been touched by life, like stones.

Kovu had no memories of Scar. Kovu didn't really even know who Scar was. Of course, he was told what everybody was obligated to tell. Scar was a snake. Scar was a killer. Scar was a liar. Scar was a monster.

And then, there were the comparisons. The insults, the assurances, the well-intended observations, it all trickled down to the same pool in the end.

"Never trusted that one..."

"...same scar, different lion..."

"...he's not like that..."

"...could see it in his eyes..."

"...born killer."

Carefully he made his way down to the bottom of the valley, landing gracefully on the hard-packed earth. The impact forced a cloud of dirt to rise, billowing around his body, swirling around his legs, drifting into the shadows, beckoning eerily. He walked. He didn't know what he was looking for, or even if he was looking for anything at all. He'd never been here before, he had no idea what to expect. He just walked.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, a large white boulder materialized, several lions high. It had several holes that-no, he realized, it was a skull. He examined the mammoth cranium, from its gaping eye sockets to its sweeping tusks. Instead of morbid fascination, he felt a sense of reverence, and quietly paced on without disturbing the remains. This place, despite its ominous aura, was sacred. He could feel it.

He wandered absentmindedly. Passing through the narrow craggy passes, past the great looming skeletal forms that stretched across the rocky expanses, under the sharp tusks and ribs that reached towards the darkening sky, their slender shadows raking his back with dark, bony fingers.

He knew this was Scar's old abode, as did anyone in the region. Thus, it seemed fitting that his thoughts would gravitate towards the darkness surrounding the late king. He did not try to redirect his thoughts to more pure, safe places, but allowed them to wander, and curiously toy with the corrupt topic, trying to find some semblance of meaning, of answers.

Though the lionesses described Scar with contempt, spitting descriptions of a thin, lithe creature with a mane as black as pupils and sharp, green eyes, crafting a despicable image, they had never described him as unattractive. Sleek, serpentine, but perhaps smooth, poised. Debonair. Kovu glanced down at his own dark mane that shifted with every breath and stride with conflicted emotion, wondering how close the resemblance was. Out of all the pride, he was the only one without possession of an image of Scar. Well, he and the princess. Kiara hadn't been born until after his death. Kovu had been too young to remember anything before the Outlands. They alone were the only two beings in their family untainted by Scar's image. The only ones without a palpable, physical image to reach back to, and inflict their feelings of hatred and spite upon. He wanted _something._

Something to glare at when he desperately tried to deflect the resentment and despise cast upon him by others simply because he resembled an animal he had never met. He was starting to hate his own reflection. He was starting to hate his dark fur, his sharp, green eyes, and the faded, light scar that cursed his flesh. It was more than just an image of his physical makeup. It was an embodiment of everything he was. And he was tainted by Scar. The reflection was not his alone. No matter what he did, Kovu could never purge himself of his past. Sometimes, he felt as if he had nothing to his name. Nothing that was truly, wholly his.

Scar's intentions had been clear. Kovu was to be king. He was to kill Simba, and rule with mercilessly abandon, marking his laws in blood. As Scar had. Scar had been a ruthless killer. And Kovu was raised to be no different.

With this bitter thought, he kicked a stray rock that lay in his path. It made a satisfying clatter that echoed as it bounced across the ground.

"Kouv," a firm voice called. Startled, Kovu leapt around, hackles raised, a sharp warning snarl flying from behind his bared fangs. Above him, a figure leapt out of the shadows, landing on a low ledge.

"Simba!" Kovu quickly relaxed his stance, confused and wary.

"What are you doing here?" The king inquired flatly. His strong golden form and red mane looked out of place in the desolate valley. Why was the king here of all places?

"I-I-" Kovu struggled for an excuse. Simba waited. "I was just looking around," he offered, lowering his head, knowing how bad this looked. The king didn't exactly sound pleased to see him. There was a moment of tense silence. They were both outside the boundaries of the Pridelands. To wander outside your own pride's lands was not only an act of retaliation against the ruler of the land in which you entered without permission, but also against your own ruler. Any trouble you got into outside your homeland was nobody's problem but your own. Nobody owed you protection. Or admission back into your homeland upon your return. In leaving, you accepted your resignation of citizenship. Kovu's stomach twisted as he realized that they both stood outside the boundaries of the law. Any law. Simba could do whatever he wanted.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

"...no," Kovu admitted, his ears starting to lower in submission. The king nodded again, slowly, allowing his gaze to pass over the rocky landscape around them. Almost as if he was scanning for witnesses. Kovu could feel the calm quickly recede, draining from his mind, the pressure of the aggression welling up inside as he tried to force it back down. Swiftly, the bigger lion leapt down from his perch, and came closer. "I was just looking, around," Kovu added nervously, "I didn't mean-"

"Kovu." The king's voice was firm and clear. Kovu lowered his head as the king came to a stop before him, ears inching back-but not going flat. Something deep inside of him refused to fully show submission. This wasn't Simba's territory. Kovu could do whatever he wanted, same as Simba. He didn't owe the king anything, not here. This was level ground.

He rose his head just enough to look Simba dead in the eyes. Knowing it could be interpreted as a challenge. The king met his gaze evenly. Kovu couldn't help but notice that they were totally isolated. No witnesses. Kovu would have the benefit of surprise. Simba's throat was within his jaw's reach...

Horrified by these thoughts, Kovu flinched.

"Are you alright?" Simba narrowed his eyes, searching the younger male's face. Kovu was caught slightly off guard by the question. The king's face wasn't entirely unconcerned. Through the cold and analytical expression, there was a glimmer of pity. A streak of vulnerability. Zira had always gloated about how Simba's emotions would be his undoing, he remembered.

Realizing that Simba was waiting for an answer, he opened his mouth.

"I'm fine." It was a neutral response. A stiff silence hung over the two as Simba sifted for an interpretation to Kovu's intentionally cryptic answer.

"You shouldn't be here," the king reminded him finally.

"I know," Kovu looked away nervously. "I'm...sorry I left the Pridelands." The apology came out easily, almost unexpectedly. Kovu wasn't even sure where the words had come from, or how well they represented his true feelings. He wasn't sure of anything at the moment. Simba seemed to consider this.

"Nobody knows you're here," the king's voice lowered, "do they?"

"No."

"I see."

Another stretch of silence. The tension wavered. Kovu couldn't read Simba's tone, and allowed his own to remain shrouded. Simba spoke again.

"Planning on heading back soon?" Though it was phrased as a question, there was a challenge embedded in his words. As well as acceptance. A conditional peace offering backed by authority, which could only be met by submission. Kovu was still treading on thin ice.

"Yes."

"Well," the king briskly turned, "Safety in numbers." Taken aback by the sudden ease in the lion's voice, Kovu cocked his head. Simba glanced over his shoulder expectantly. Kovu was to follow. Having no choice, he did.

They walked without speaking, the king taking the lead. From the older lion's stiff body language, the younger male knew that his place was behind the king. They were not equals, that much was being communicated quite clearly. If Kovu had been a lioness, he knew that Simba would probably have been more loose and calm. But because Kovu was a younger male, and had just been caught in a position that suggested disloyalty and rebellion, the king's strongest drive would be to keep him in his place. It wasn't personal. It was just the male way. Kovu's reasons for being where he was (not that he knew them enough himself to communicate them) did not matter at the moment. And so, he respectfully pushed himself into a state of submission, allowing himself to be led away.

He couldn't help but notice that with his back to him, the king was exposed to an attack.

Kovu jerked his head away, forcing his gaze to the ground in guilt and shame.

"You okay?" Simba asked innocently over his shoulder. Kovu couldn't find his words. Something was off. The king's quick transition from threatening to forgiving was a familiar pattern.

An insidiously familiar pattern.

First angry, then kind. Rejecting, then beckoning. Scary... then safe.

He instantly recalled Zira's horrendous mood swings. She'd be screaming and swinging her clawed paw, terrifying whoever had been deemed earning of her wrath. Then in the blink of an eye the monster would vanish, leaving a sweet, charming caregiver. An innocent mother begging for trust. A safe haven, promising shelter.

His guard instantly went up, and his eyes hardened. He shut down, and stiffly followed Simba out of the valley. Head low, ears tilted back in submission, several paces behind the king. It was more than was being asked of him, he knew. Simba had more or less forgiven him. But Kovu wasn't about to take any chances. He had stepped outside his bounds, and that had jeopardized his relationship with Simba and standing in the pride. He had to remain in his place. He could not make this mistake again.

Experience told him that if he did, Simba would turn on him, followed by all the others. And then he'd have nothing.

* * *

"You were at the elephant graveyard again last night."

Simba turned to meet Nala's firm expression. The two of them had been lounging on a rocky outcropping that jutted from the side of Pride Rock, not saying a word as they lay spread out in the shade. She must have been waiting, he realized, for him to disclose his actions, but had grown impatient. From the way she set her jaw and fixed her eyes, he knew what was expected of him.

"I was." His voice was dead.

"What are you going to tell Kiara?" This startled him. He hadn't wanted his daughter to know he was sneaking off when he had raised her to know better. He could guess what it would look like to her. Spirits only knew what it looked like to Nala. To say that it was blatant hypocrisy only scratched the surface of things.

"I take it she saw where I went."

"I don't know how she knows," the lioness looked at her pale paws, her voice softening, "I just know that she asked me this morning what you were doing there."

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth." Nala met his gaze calmly. "That I didn't know." He sighed, biting his lip, and glanced downward. He knew Nala worried about his trips to the elephant graveyard, they made her uneasy. She knew what he did there, physically. It was went on inside his head while he was there that she didn't understand. He wondered if she even wanted to. It wasn't like his mate to allow a question to go unanswered, let alone request that it be so. It was a delicate topic. Thus, chose his words selectively and crafted his tone with care.

"I go there," he spoke finally with a measured voice, "to resolve bad feelings. Not to fuel them."

She watched him speak with eyes that were sympathetic, yet analytical. She was reading him. Studying his face, sifting through his voice, feeling for signs.  
She could read him well. But not perfectly. There were times when he managed to stump her. And there were times when he himself didn't know what was going on inside, leaving nothing clear to read.

He had no more words for her. Not today. He'd explained things the best he could. She held his gaze, still looking for some shred of an answer. Then, placed her head in his lap. Somehow, peace had been found. For the time being.

Her head on his arms, his head on her neck, they rested, saying nothing. After several minutes, she dislodged his head gently to allow herself to sit up.

"I'll see you tonight."

He knew what the expected answer was.

"I'll be in the den before midnight," he promised quietly. Satisfied, she gracefully began the descent back to the ground.

He rested his chin on his bent arm, the other spread lazily to the side. His gaze, hazy from napping, wandered aimlessly over the broken clusters of his pride below, tawny shapes gathered under trees and lounging on sunny rocks, two of them wrestling playfully some ways off, the others looking over occasionally. Socializing, relaxing. He closed his eyes.

"You know," a pensive voice jerked him out of the first stages of sleep, "I really thought she knew."

Wearily, he looked at the only creature who could read him as well as his wife.

"Hello, Timon."

"Hey, pal." The meerkat sat heavily next to Simba, facing the horizon. "I think we oughta talk."

* * *

"You really think I'm being a bad father for not talking to her about it?" Simba cringed.

"Not to mention king and mentor," Timon counted off on his fingers, "But let's not get hung up on the word 'bad,' I merely said 'not the best.' That leaves a lot of room for both improvement and failure. And you my friend, are capable of both in epic proportions." He patted the lion reassuringly. "Take it as a compliment."

"Mentor and father are the same thing," the lion grumbled, rubbing his face with the back of his paw.

"Unless I missed a wedding or have seriously got this whole family tree thing mixed up, you're not Kovu's father."

"I'm not his mentor. We don't exactly talk much."

"With that attitude, you never will. Look buddy, Kovu was raised by whackjobs, that's all he knows. Probably thinks he's doomed to become one himself. That gives you something in common."

"I wasn't raised by whackjobs, I was raised by freaks of nature. There's a difference."

"Look, you thought you were doomed to be a loser the rest of your life. I knew you didn't have to be, but it took Nala to convince your thick head otherwise. None of the others could do that."

"So you want me to attack him and then slam him with cold, hard reality?" Simba gave his friend a pointed look.

"Well I take it seducing him is out of the question, so-"

"You are one sick creature."

"Hey, you turned out fine. I'm proud to call myself a sick freak of nature. But in all seriosity, I think you can help that kid."

"Seriosity isn't a word."

"Eh," the meerkat waved his hands dismissally. "Hakuna Matata. I'm just try'na say that maybe gettin' this whole visiting creepy places in the dead of night thing out in the open could be a good thing. Ya know? Get Nala in the picture, that usually works out well for ya. No offense, but you're not always so good at takin' care of yourself, buddy."

"I can take care of myself fine. I just...walk the edge of the line a little sometimes."

"Well," Timon stood and stretched. "Just don't fall off the edge again. Once is quite enough."

"And to which low point in my life could you possibly be referring, pray tell?" Simba looked at Timon bitterly. Timon wasn't flustered.

"In your history, there aren't many options to choose from. That says something."

"Depends on your perspective."

"Simba," Timon gestured as if he was searching for the right words, rotating his hands in a cyclic motion. "I'll never think in the same terms as you. I'm not worried about some afterlife with pleasin' dead ancestors up in the clouds. I don't worry about tomorrow, I do what I want today. That's just how it is, an' it's sure too late to change now. Hakuna Matata, keep life simple. But," he rubbed the back of his neck, "all that mumbo jumbo aside, I think you're on doin' pretty good. I mean sure, you've screwed up and let some animals down, but the past is the past. I don't see anybody holding that against you except you. I might even go so far as to say I couldn't be more proud, if I were the type. So uh, keep that fluffy head of yours in the right place, y'know? It'll work out."

Simba considered the Timon's words. He'd heard this speech from him before, phrased in varied ways, always straight off the top of the meerkat's head, but it usually worked. Timon had an odd way of helping Simba find peace.

"Did any of that spiel make it through that thick skull o' yours?"

"Yeah. I guess so," the lion admitted.

"Close enough." He gave Simba a playful punch before walking away. "See ya 'round, buddy." Simba allowed a small smile to cross his lips. Then, he went to find Zazu. He still had a job to do.

* * *

The grass rustled with each careful step, a gentle crinkling sound as the blades parted for his dark figure. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Since when had his walk become so clumsy? Anybody in the Pridelands could hear him coming. It was childish of him to allow his skills to dull, he chastised himself silently.

"Kovu?"

He jumped.

"I want to ask you something," Kiara leapt over, not realizing that she'd startled him.

"What?" He snapped.

"Hey," she frowned, "That's uncalled for."

"Sorry," he tried to shake his jittered nerves off, "sorry."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!"

"Kovu."

"What did you want to ask?"

"Well," she began, "it's a more serious question, and here isn't the best  
place to-"

"Can't you just say it here? Nobody's around."

"It's not that kind of question." She lowered her voice. "It's about last night."

"What, your dad told you?" He was angry that Simba would betray him this way, though not surprised. The king had probably taken advantage of the situation and blamed Kovu for the whole thing. While it was a frustrating thought, he couldn't blame him. Simba's credibility and record mattered more than Kovu's. Although he had foolishly hoped Simba was different than that.

"No, he didn't tell me anything." Oh. "I saw you two come back. And I want to know what it was about. My dad wouldn't go there without a serious reason. And  
you're the only one who would know what that reason is."

"Ask your mom or Zazu or something," he shook his head, "I don't know."

"I did. They didn't know."

"Wait," he looked more closely at her, "they didn't know why he was there?"

"No. Kovu, they don't know anything. I'm not even sure my mom knew he went at all. Zazu didn't."

"Oh." He sat. Was it possible he'd witnessed something truly secret? Or deeply personal? Did he know something even Nala didn't? And if so, how was Simba handling that? One thing was now clear: Simba had not wanted anyone to know why he was in the elephant graveyard. "Is it, you know, bad that he was there?" He asked tentatively.

"It's out of our borders, we're not even supposed to leave the Pridelands in the first place. My dad's gone off there at night before. Nobody talks about it. I don't even know who knows about it. And this morning I found out that my mom doesn't know why he does it. Something is really wrong."

"That's..." This looked bad. "...yeah." He sucked in a breath of air, and exhaled harshly. "Kiara, I don't know why he was there. Or why I was there. We didn't go together, we ran into each other, he didn't say-"

"Forget it," she walked away. "Don't tell me."

"Kiara!" He ran after her. "I swear, that's what happened!"

"Fine, stick with that, then."

"No!" He jumped in front of her. Her eyes hardened.

"Move."

"No."

"I figured eventually you and my dad would finally have something to talk about," she spat, "I just didn't think it'd be at my family's expense."

"I'm not lying!" He shouted. A few passing animals turned their heads.

"Keep your voice down," she hissed. "And move out of my way."

"No. I'm not leaving until you stop calling me a liar and listen to the truth!"

"Move, Kovu!"

"Your highness," a giraffe took several long, confident steps in their direction, scrutinizing the situation. "Is _this lion _bothering you?" Kovu glared up at the giraffe. She knew exactly who he was. Everyone did. But it wasn't uncommon to be treated like a common rogue. This giraffe clearly thought of him as one.

"No," he scowled, "I'm not-"

"I wasn't asking you!" She cut him off with a shrill sneer. "I was speaking to the princess. Princess, is he bothering you?" Several giraffes stepped closer, their faces suspicious.

"You need to leave," Kiara ordered between her teeth.

"Yes, your highness," he drawled, voice biting with bitterness. "I think I'd better."

* * *

"...and so I told her that it simply wouldn't work," Zazu droned on, "but of course she demanded that there must be something you could do, and I was pressed to remind her that you can do many things, but controlling the weather is not one of them, and of course she was indignant that I should misinterpret her so poorly, but I simply couldn't understand how on earth she could expect you to order the hippos to drink and bathe less to conserve clear water for her clan's own use, as if the rest of us weren't operating with depleting water sources the same as her, but of course she wouldn't hear of it, and in short I felt I had to-"

"Zazu."

"Sire?"

"The hippos are fine. The rainy season is on its way, her clan will just have to deal with it. Don't worry about it anymore. She's just a kid, she'll get the hang of it. Don't waste your energy."

One of the baboon clans had recently been put under new management after the retirement of it's leader, and the heir was still young and naive. She thought she had to give into her clanmates' every whim, regardless of who she had to mow down to make that happen. Simba had had a few interactions with the young baboon, and immediately recognized all the signs of someone who was in over their head. She didn't mean to be bossy; she felt pressured by her clanmates and couldn't deny their demands.

"Yes of course sire, but it's a rather discouraging start to her career, don't you think?"

"No," Simba answered simply. "She'll learn to take control of them, but she has to learn that on her own. In time, she will, and we won't have much to worry about. She's just taking her stress out on you, she'll shape up."

"Well forgive me if I'm not thrilled with the look of things," Zazu replied. "I think she's a bit young for the task."

"She's a kid!" Simba snapped. "She's young but she probably wants to do the best she can but doesn't know who to listen to. Maybe she didn't even want this job," he continued, eyes to the ground as he walked, "even if she did want it at one point, and now she realizes how hard and draining it can be and that's not her fault because she's doing her best!" Zazu opened his mouth to respond but Simba blindly cut him off, lost in his words. "If I blame anybody it's her father, he shouldn't just leave her to figure out everything for herself. He's not doing his part."

"I'm sensing a bit of a personal note emerging in your words, sire," Zazu commented gently.

Realizing what he'd said, the king let out a sore laugh. "I guess I'm just a bit...sensitive to her situation."

"An understandable position. Perhaps I have been a bit harsh on her. We all start somewhere, is that not true?"

"Usually from the bottom," Simba sighed. "Anyway, let's hear what the cheetahs want and then I'll check where I left off at the border, I need to spend a few nights on that. I've let myself get behind."

"The borders have been oddly quiet, despite your supposed neglect."

"And it'll stay that way."

"Regardless, sire, I s-"

A loud roar ripped through the air. It was an unfamiliar, aggressive call. A challenge. Several angry lionesses snarled in the distance, calling for Simba,  
anxiously beckoning him to answer the threat. As the king, he didn't need prodding. He let out a loud, authoritative answer. To let the stranger know he was well aware of their presence. Then he unleashed a second roar, this one more harsh, the sound twisting with snarls at the end, an outburst of anger. Letting the stranger know they weren't welcome.

"Seems we may have spoken too soon," Zazu noted nervously. Simba angrily swiped at the ground, spraying clods of dirt and grass wtih the swing of his leg. Adrenaline was already beginning to leak into his veins in response to the possibility of a fight. Zazu quickly leaped into the air, hovering out of reach.

"I do _not_ have time for this," Simba growled. The stranger sent out an equally aggressive call, egging the king on. Infuriated, Simba cut him off with another roar. The two roared at each other continually, despite what sounded to be about a mile's distance between them, trying to establish their respective ranks. Back and forth, demanding submission and proclaiming dominance.

The air became alive with noise. Birds flocked to the skies, quickly rushing to spread the word and seek a vantage point to witness for themselves what would happen next. Herd animals nervously scampered away from the scene, moving in swarms. Monkeys screamed excitedly, some leaping towards the din, others in the opposite direction. Hippos sank further into the muck. The rodents were already hidden in their burrows. Elephants shook the dust from their backs and stomped anxiously, flicking their large, leathery ears at all the shrieks, neighs and growls.

"I'd best be on my way to scout ahead," Zazu flapped higher, preparing to take off.

"Do so," Simba snarled. "I'm ready whenever he is."

* * *

"Hey," Kiara nudged him, breaking the silence. Suppressing a groan, Kovu looked up with reluctance. Sunlight streamed in from outside, splitting into sharp rays that illuminated the dust in the air, millions of glowing specs that floated in suspension.

Only a few other lionesses were inside the den, gathered in a cluster, murmuring anxiously about the events of the previous day. He'd been pretending to sleep, until Kiara had come back from wherever she had spent the morning, probably bent on talking to him. They hadn't spoken since the previous morning, he'd known it was only a matter of time before she'd want to make amends. "We should probably talk."

"Yeah," he admitted, knowing time to prepare himself for the confrontation had run out. He stood and looked down at her, waiting for her to lead him to wherever she wanted to talk. Instead of taking charge, she bent her neck, and pressed her forehead to his chest, a gesture of affection that caught him off guard.

"Oh. Hello." He awkwardly patted her elbow, though he'd intended to reach her leg.

"Hi," she mumbled into his mane.

"You okay?"

She took a deep breath, and exhaled heavily before raising her head.

"I'm alright. Just, it's been weird lately. You've been weird. My dad's been weird. And then yesterday was...well, kind of awful." He nodded in understanding. "I just, I don't' like fighting. I don't like violence." She looked at the ground. "I guess it's not something that can be avoided sometimes. Just. I wish it could be."

"Me too."

"I mean I know why he had to do it," she continued, referencing her father's acceptance of the challenge against him. "But that didn't make it easy to watch. He could've been really badly hurt."

_Or killed._ Kovu knew that many lions fought to the death over the right to rule. It happened all the time, it was nothing new. She knew that. But he had to remember that Kiara was more sensitive than he was. It must have been hard for her, he realized, to have to stand by and watch her father be attacked, knowing that his life and right to stay in the Pridelands hung into balance. Nobody was allowed to intervene. If he'd lost, he'd have been exiled until he was strong enough to take back what was his. If he was able to walk away at all. Nobody would be allowed to follow him. The pride would stay together.

"I know," was all he could manage.

"Well," she turned towards the entrance, "I guess it's over now. But," she continued as he matched her pace, and they stepped into the daylight together, "we should talk about the other morning. A few days ago."

"Yesterday," he quietly corrected, eyeing the king warily, his guard instantly going up. Kiara sensed the tension immediately, and glanced between the two males. Simba was laying on a flat boulder that lay at the base of Pride Rock, just thirty or so paces away. He appeared to be resting, laying stretched out in the dappled shade of a small tree while Nala doted over him, stoking his injured body with her warm tongue. Sarabi, Sarafina, Mogha, and several other lionesses surrounded them, as if they were protecting him from potential harm. The king was weak.

Kovu recalled the previous evening. He'd heard the challenger's calls, the same as anyone within a mile's radius. Hearing those threats echo over the hills had dug into something deeply buried in his instincts, with burning hot claws.

What was more intense was when Simba had let out his answering call of dominance.

That...that had made his blood boil.

He'd chased the sounds, like fire in his ears, and followed them to the fight. He was itching to get as close as he could, and answer the call. Suddenly it was all he wanted, all that made sense, all he could think of. He'd pushed through the crowd of cheetahs, elephants, ostriches and lionesses that had gathered in a large, sweeping ring, following the drive that had suddenly awakened inside of him.

In the center of the ring were the two males, already at each other's throats. The challenger was clearly younger, and less experienced than the king. But he was faster. Simba delivered heavy, deliberate blows and used the brunt of his frame to drive his opponent back. The other male was like a cobra, erratically striking with bared fangs and claws, then leaping just out of reach. When Simba managed to lock the challenger into combat, that was when fur flew. The challenger wriggled and slashed, inflicting at first nothing but superficial lashes that barely bled, while Simba held on to his body with a firm grip, slowly puncturing his enemy's flesh, cringing as his body was swiped at again and again.

He watched as they wrestled, snarling wretchedly, jerking their bodies in attempts to dislodge their opponent. He was tense, his mind was hot with an urge he couldn't place. He...he wanted to be there, to throw himself into the fray. Yes, he realized, that was what he wanted. It was driving him crazy.

The fighting didn't last long. The challenger relented, and submitted to being driven away. It wasn't a true victory, but, it wasn't defeat. Kovu watched Simba rejoin the pride, instantly swarmed by the lionesses, who praised and doted on him, while the crowd dispersed, satisfied that their king was still in power, noisily making their way back to their clans.

It wasn't a true victory, Kovu remembered thinking haughtily, watching as the king wearily walked to the watering hole, largely ignoring the attention. He then glanced back, looking directly at Kovu. From the distance, Kovu couldn't read his expression. And knowing the king couldn't see his own, he'd sneered. He hadn't seen Simba alone since, and for some reason, that bothered him. He felt contempt that the king should be so fawned over for such an unremarkable feat. Kovu knew he could have killed the challenger. And the more he looked at Simba, the more he wanted to prove it.

Now the king shot a look at Kovu out of the corner of his eye. Kovu returned the look coldly. He didn't care for the aloof attitude, it irritated him be treated like a lesser so blatantly. Sarabi saw the stare-down commence, almost as if she had expected it, and patted her son's hip, as if to divert his attention away from the younger male.

Simba ignored her attempt, gripping the icy look he cast with a firm grasp.


	2. Chapter 2

"I guess that makes sense," Kiara nodded, walking slowly as she processed his words. "But that still doesn't explain why my dad was there."

"I have no idea why your dad was breaking his own rules," he responded bitterly. She gave him a funny look. "What?" He demanded. "You said so yourself, he's breaking his own rules."

"You've been acting really weird."

"So? What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm not mad at you, I'm just saying you've been antsy. And kind of a grouch." She was analyzing him. He realized he'd just talked down to her father. He forced a meek response.

"Sorry," he murmured, eyes darting downward, ears edging back. She marked his submission with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you oka-"

"I'm fine."

They walked the rest of way in silence.

* * *

He panted with satisfaction, looking over their kill. Night had fallen, and a cool dark breeze lifted the hairs of his mane, sending chills down his sweaty neck. The rest of the hunters mingled around the fallen zebra, tails swishing as their mouths watered.

"You didn't completely fail," Vitani remarked neutrally beside him.

"Nor did you," his lip curled into a slight smile.

"Almost a full moon," she noted. He looked up at the sky.

"Yeah, almost."

"Think you'll turn into a monster this time around?" Mogha had told them about an old monster myth, where dark-maned lions exposed to the glow of a full moon at the peak of night would turn into powerful creatures, swift as shadows with claws like shards of bone, and eyes of glowing embers. Vitani had taken up the imaginative fancy that perhaps Kovu would one day transform into one of these creatures. It was an odd thing to consider, especially because in one way or another, at one point in time, that is exactly what she had expected him to become. Then again, the uncomfortable parallel was exactly something Vitani would find pleasing to entertain. Perhaps, he pondered, she took comfort in his rejection of the notion, sealing it as nothing more than a fantasy.

"Nope, not a chance."

"There's always the next moon," she sighed. Then again, perhaps she really did like the idea of a shadow monster. One could never tell with Vitani.

They were waiting for the queen, who to their knowledge, had not eaten recently. It was out of respect that they had not already begun to eat.

Kovu's mane prickled when he saw the king emerge from the dark grass. Nala followed beside him. With resentment he watched the king eye their kill, while he spoke to some of the huntresses. He hadn't made this kill for the king. He'd made it for himself and the lionesses. Simba had had his fill. After the fight he'd been offered gifts of legs and small rodents from various carnivorous clans and some of the lionesses, as was tradition. He had eaten more than his fair share without having to lift a paw.

"You ready to eat?" One of them asked Nala.

"Oh no, you all go ahead," she shook her head, "we're not eating."

"Mmm, sharing your gifts?" One of them chided Simba playfully. "Heard that's a bit rude."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Simba winked at Nala, who rolled her eyes with a smile. Kovu liked Nala. She was smart, and a skilled huntress. She also possessed a sharp wit that often trumped that of anyone else, including her king. Watching her and Timon get into it was fantastically entertaining, though their rapid-fire banter could be hard to follow.

Kovu's mouth watered as he tore off a piece of hide, feeling it tautly stretch as he exposed the red underneath. The warm, sharp taste of bloody flesh quickly flooded any petty concerns that had danced in his mind. Drinking in the succulence, he sighed blissfully.

* * *

"...and Tiifu and Kiara," Nala finished. The lions, gathered in the den, glanced at each other with some confusion. Nala had made a few changes to the hunting parties.

"Um, Nala?" Tiifu rose her paw. "Just asking, why are you putting me in this group? I hunted with the last group, so..." As a majority of all carnivore's  
hunts are unsuccessful, much of their energy is wasted in failed pursuit of prey. The pride rotated the hunters to ensure that the den was always defended. As an average hunt lasted a grueling several hours, the lionesses expected a resting period as the other group rotated through, if the hunt was unsuccessful, which was often the case.

"We all ate two days ago, that's more than enough time to rest up. We're going to start pushing you younger girls harder to build your endurance. Any other questions?"

"Which group am I in?" Kovu spoke up from the back.

"I pulled you out of rotation for this hunt," Nala responded. Seeing the curious glances exchanged between the lionesses and the sideways glaces being  
cast at Kovu, she provided clarification. "It's not a punishment, I'm just giving you a break."

"I don't need one," he answered firmly. He wasn't about to stand by while the younger lionesses were working harder than he was. He had twice the endurance, he thought, it was ridiculous that he was the one being told to stand on the sidelines like a play-worn child. It was embarrassing.

"Nevertheless," Sarabi gave him a look, "you have been granted one by your queen, and you will take it." He bit his lip, knowing better than to mouth off to Simba's mother. Satisfied with his compliance, they moved on to other topics, as his fur bristled.

* * *

Kovu scowled as he swallowed, tasting the rusty minerals in the water. They were just on the cusp of the rainy season, so that watering hole had been sweetened with rain, but sparkling swirls of silt still dusted the surface. The soil in the Pridelands was soft, and muddied the water when there wasn't enough rain to dilute it. He hated mud. It sucked his paws to the ground, seeping in between his toes, and sprayed his face when he ran, leaving dried dirt clods that were difficult to remove. He didn't like feeling dirty.

He wiped his mouth, and began the walk back. It was cloudy and humid. A hot breath of air brushed his mane across his shoulders as he treaded the soft path.

"Excuse me, Kovu?" A hippo approached him.

"Yes?" He vaguely recognized the animal, though that hardly dulled his wariness.

"Kovu, right?"

"Yeah, can I help you?"

"Sorry for bothering you," the hippo seemed to sense his irritation, "I just wondered if you knew where the king was."

"I haven't seen him today."

"He promised to meet me here, I'm just worried he was held up."

"I don't know what to tell you, I haven't seen him."

"Well thanks for your time. I'm uh, I'm Akuji."

"It was nice to meet you." He wasn't interested in exchanging pleasantries. So long as he wasn't wed to Kiara, talking to Pridelanders he didn't know about things he wasn't involved in wasn't his job. Where was Simba, anyway? Sneaking off the the elephant graveyard again? Why wasn't he doing his job? He kicked a pebble and went on his way.

Kovu realized he was angry at Simba. He wasn't irritated, he was angry. He was tired of being treated like one of the lionesses, like he wasn't just as much a male as Simba. He was angry that Nala had held him back from hunting in front of everyone, he just knew that Simba had put her up to it. Probably as a punishment for going to the elephant graveyard. A passive-aggressive check to keep his head down. He was tired of Simba's aloof attitude, and he was angry that Simba was the only one allowed to go after the challenger. If Kovu had been allowed, he would have shredded the stranger's hide, not batted him like a sparring lioness.

Even when Simba had his mate, daughter and pride as his audience, he still wouldn't man up and show some strength, some aggression. Could Simba even fight? Was he holding back, or was he just weak? All his aggression seemed to be dealt through language, through his tone of voice, his stance and words. Talk was cheap. Was Simba afraid that Kovu could defeat him?

That thought hung in his mind as he walked, his shoulders tensing with pent-up frustration. His heart sped as he saw the king himself appear over the hill, likely on his way to meet Akuli or whoever, Kovu thought, avoiding the king's gaze. Ambling along with the world at his paws. Typical. And for once, he was traveling without his entourage of females to dote on his injuries. As Simba drew nearer, Kovu noted that his shoulder was chewed up, the flesh bumpy and swollen under his fur. It probably still hurt. In a moment of blind anger, Kovu roughly butted his shoulder against the king's, feeling him instantly flinch in pain. His moment of sick satisfaction quickly ended when he realized what he had done. He heard Simba stop in his tracks. Kovu's heart pounded.

He stood his ground as Simba slowly walked towards him, watching out of the corner of his eye as the king circled him. When they stood face to face, Kovu's gaze hardened. This was it. He was tired of being pushed around. He was tired of being treated like a female. He didn't care what came as a consequence, he would no longer be underestimated. And yet, something gnawed at the back of his mind, something wasn't right.

Simba met his gaze firmly. He then raised a paw off the ground, slowly, letting it hover for a moment. Kovu tensed, but refused to show submission. Then, Simba shoved him. Hard. The king was egging him on. Furious at being provoked, Kovu scowled, but could not find it in himself to bare his teeth. Something held him back.

"Well?" The king demanded. Kovu took a deep breath, but said nothing. He was angry. But this wasn't what he had imagined would play out. This wasn't what he wanted. He felt himself falter. "Either start talking or attack me, but either way, we are having this out right now. _Answer me."_

"Why did you make me sit out of the hunt?" he blurted. Simba scrunched his face in confusion.

"What?"

"I-I was suspended from hunting, without reason, that's...that's..." His mind drew blank as his anger drained, and the reality of his mistake began to set in.

"What, it's what? Humiliating? Is that what this is about, your pride?"

"No! I just, I don't appreciate being punished in front of everyone for absolutely no reason, the lionesses don't get treated that way! Why am I being treated differently?" He hated how whiny his voice was sounding.

"I don't know why she pulled you from hunting, I wasn't part of that decision. But that's neither here not there, am I to understand that you took a jab at me because you're mad at my wife?"

"No! That's not it!"

"What _is_ the reason?"

"I'm tired of being treated like a lioness!" It was all he could come up with. He knew he was upset, but couldn't put it to words, and every second it seemed more trivial.

"Oh, really? Kovu, you'd be damn lucky to be treated like a lioness. They catch our food and raise our cubs, and deserve the utmost respect. As a male, you fall below each and every one of them in rank in this pride. And for another thing, I'm a hell of a lot easier on them than I will ever be on you."

"I-"

"You can pull yourself together and figure out how to balance yourself, or you can force yourself to behave while fantasizing about fighting me. In the end, it's all on you. But if you dare law a paw on me again, I swear to the spirits, I will not hold back."

Kovu nodded, a lump forming in his throat.

"Do you have anything to say to me?"

"I do not want to hurt you," Kovu answered in a weak voice. "I swear, I don't. I just-I lost my head. I won't retaliate again. If you could find a way to trust me again, I-"

"If I didn't trust you, there'd be blood in the dirt," Simba spat. "This is a warning. I watched my father do much worse for much less."

"Yes, sir."

"I want to talk to you. Not today, in a few days. I'll tell you when I'm ready."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"What did you do?" Zuri finally asked, cutting the tension of the young group.

"Something stupid," Kovu mumbled. "You wouldn't get it."

"We may be just daisy-headed lionesses," Vitani smirked, "But we know when Nala's pissed at someone."

"You mouthed off to her for suspending you from hunting, didn't you?" Tiifu asked.

"To Simba, actually," Kovu admitted. He really didn't want to talk about it.

"Yikes. I don't know what's worse."

"If you mouthed off to him about Nala, that's worse."

"What can I say? I'm just stupid," he sulked.

"Could you have screwed up any more?" Vitani tousled his mane, lounging on a boulder next to him. The four young lions were enjoying the cool shade of a small tree that fanned out from a scraggly trunk, though the air was cooling as the season shifted.

"I could have hit him," Kovu scoffed bitterly.

"Hah! He would have killed you," Zuri laughed. "Spirits, nobody's that stupid."

"Yeah..." He looked at his paws, briefly distracted by a flash of guilt and embarrassment at being reminded of his tremendous mistake and the harsh lecture that followed. Simba was right. He was lucky to escape unscathed. None of them realized the gravity of his error. It was different for them, they were lionesses.

"Anyway, why did you get suspended?" Tiifu asked.

"I'm not suspended, Nala just told me to take a break for a while. She didn't say why, except to 'slow down.' Whatever that means."

"She does that sometimes," Tiifu nodded. "She says that to us when she thinks we're pushing ourselves too hard."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she doesn't want us overworking ourselves."

"Better to take it easy before you get hurt, instead of after, right?" Zuri asked.

"Yeah, I guess that's true," he traced a squiggle in the dirt with his claw.

"Don't worry about it," Vitani assured him. "It doesn't matter, it's just a few days. We all know you can kill a zebra, nobody's worried." He looked at her, and realized that she understood, in her own way. Beneath her cocky teasing was an assurance of understanding. He responded by batting her lightly over the head.

"Asshole."

...

"So, that's it?" Kiara narrowed her eyes. "That's all there is to it?"

"That's all there is to it," her father promised. She pondered his response, her gaze resting on the smooth floor of the den, following the curves in the cool stone. "I know it's against the rules to go down there," he admitted, "I'm not trying to justify my actions. But I wanted you to hear from me what was going on."

"Why haven't you told Zazu, or Timon?"

"Timon knows, and as for Zazu..." Simba sighed. "I'm still figuring out a way to break it to him. He'll hold it against me for at least a week, I'm waiting for things to slow down before I fall from his good graces." She smiled.

"Well, I'm just glad it's not something _too_ bad."

"I'm sure it looked questionable."

"To put it lightly," she side-eyed him.

"Again, I'm sorry I put you in that position. It was self-indulgent, and in the end, not worth the consequences. No more wandering off into the shadows, happy?"

"It's not that I was so worried," she sighed, "but it looked bad, especially when Mom didn't really know what was going on."

"She knew," Simba clarified, "she just didn't know about, you know, that particular time is all."

"Look at you, nitpicking like a proper politician," she elbowed him.

"I guess I deserved that."

"You did. But, thank you for telling me."

"After how strict I've been with you, it's only fair to address my own hypocrisy. And I didn't want you worrying."

"I wasn't," she insisted lightly. "Just, you know, curious."

"So interviewing Zazu, Timon, your mom, your grandmothers and Rafiki was just to satisfy your curiosity then, hmm?"

"I figured one of them would know, it never hurts to be thorough," she answered primly.

"Fair's fair. Does anybody else know?"

"Just me, Mom, Timon, Kovu and Zuri. And Rafiki, now that I've asked him."

"Zuri knows?" That was something to worry about. Zuri was a talker, and he didn't want this spreading more than it already had.

"I told her to keep her mouth shut, but," Kiara grimaced, "you should probably go talk to her."

"Oh my ancestors," he rubbed his face. "What does she think it was about?"

"She may have said something about a possible affair," the princess couldn't conceal a giggle. He winced.

"That's...huh." He sighed deeply. "Great."

"Mom got a kick out of it, if that makes you feel any better," she smirked.

"Of course she did." He had to smile. Nala had a sick sense of humor when it came to that sort of thing. This wasn't the first time something of that nature had been speculated, and it wouldn't be the last. Sometimes he really hated being in the public eye. At least his wife got a few laughs out of it.

"Well anyway," she stood, "thanks for talking to me about it."

"Somewhere to go?"

"I'm supposed to meet someone by the watering hole before sunset," she explained, before nuzzling him. "I love you."

"I love you too." He didn't know who she was meeting or why, and he wasn't worried. She could take care of herself. Besides, he had his own agenda for the evening.

* * *

"You're early," the king commented. Kovu shrugged.

"Didn't want to be rude." It had been two days, and the tension between the two of them had cooled, though Kovu still felt on edge around the king. Whether it was for fear of inciting the king's anger or fear that his rage would swell up suddenly and manipulate his actions, he couldn't tell. Nevertheless, the two had been avoiding each other.

"Well, I'll get straight to the point," he sat next to Kovu. They were seated in the tall grass on the nape of Pride Rock, facing the lands beyond.

"Alright," Kovu nodded, not sure what else he could say.

"Kovu, males are bulls. Plain and simple. We're just built to take each other out, I guess. Sometimes it takes practice to work out the dynamics of cohabitation." There was a pause, as Simba appeared to be considering how to word what he wanted to explain. " I guess the urge to compete and dominate is just in our blood, and sometimes that can cloud our judgment. It's something we all struggle with, and it can surface is strange ways."

Kovu nodded.

"But, just because it's hard doesn't mean it isn't our responsibility to control it. As king, it's my job to exercise control when dealing with aggressors, be it strangers or friends. I have to exercise restraint against challengers. It's against code to kill or maim a challenger unless it is to defend my own life or the life of somebody in my kingdom. I'd be lying if I said it was easy keeping to that code. And as a male member of my pride, you have your own code of conduct to follow."

"I just get so blindsided sometimes," he admitted, immensely relieved that he wasn't alone in his struggle. "I just never thought it would come back out at you. I really thought I was past all of it. Hunting usually helps to take the edge off but sometimes...I feel like Zira's winning. I don't want her to."

"Hunting is not a good of an outlet as they say it is," Simba admitted. "We'd all like to say we'd never forget the difference between prey and our own  
kind, but believe me, with the wrong mindset, the lines can blur. And unfortunately," he added, "growing up and having a family only makes it worse."

"How?" Kovu frowned. "What do you have to compete for? What is there to prove?"

"The struggle remains, it just morphs into something more mature. Instead of battling for dominance and proving yourself to those close to you, it becomes something more like a primal need to defend and proving yourself against outside aggressors. You aren't just fighting for yourself anymore, now it's for your mate, or child."

"I guess that makes sense. I just didn't think it was supposed to get harder."

"As your vices mature, so will your virtues. Or so it goes," Simba shrugged. "We all have our demons."

"I guess I need more practice taming them," the young male sulked.

"It takes discipline, and on this subject especially, I'm in no position to lecture. I remember when Kiara was still little, she ran off when I wasn't looking, and managed to get herself close to the border. And when I found her, I stop, and I look out, and saw a rouge in the distance. He was too far away to see her, he had no idea she was even there, but it didn't matter to me. I attacked him without warning, which is extremely wrong, and Nala had to intervene before I let him go. I, well I went nuts. All I could think about was how he could have found her before I did, and it was blinding. All I could think about was eliminating a threat. But you just can't act that way. You can't think that way."

"You were just protecting her."

"But animals lives aren't a means to an end. You can't kill a stranger to make yourself feel safer, or to feel like you're a provider. It doesn't work that way. And, as for Zira, she only has as much control over you as you think she does."

"That's a harsh thought."

"Is it?"

"Well, I still feel brainwashed sometimes. I hate it, but I do."

"That's not your fault, we're shaped by our experiences. But you're an adult now. You make your own decisions, you figure out what's right and act on it. Nobody's trying to tell you what to think or how to feel anymore."

"I just feel stupid."

"You crossed a few lines, realized your mistakes, and faced the consequences." Simba's voice grew softer. "That's all you need to worry about."

"I guess..."

"Are you kept up at night by voices that tell you to kill and kill again?"

"No! I never was!" Kovu was horrified.

"Then I think you're going to be fine," a smile crept onto Simba's face, and it dawned on him that the king had been kidding. He relaxed, and allowed himself a nervous laugh.

"I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

"Can I ask you something?"

"I think so," the king nodded.

"What were you doing?"

The king considered this question, his face unreadable.

"I wish I really knew," the king mused. Looking up at the younger male, he spoke softly. "I guess I just need to put a face to my fears. The elephant graveyard is full of a lot of things. Death, bad memories, bad omens. I guess...I guess being able to walk in and out helps. Walk in, look around, dust yourself off and it's like it never happened. Gives me a sense of control. And," he stood abruptly, signalling the end of the conversation, "I was thinking about annexing it into the Pridelands, but it's impossible to patrol. It was an empty idea, but it never hurts to wonder." He stopped, and looked at Kovu. "But you know, I think you owe me an explanation yourself."

"I think I just wanted a place to put my demons, but," Kovu smiled crookedly, "they followed me back." Simba smiled, and gazed out at that ominous pit of shadows.

"Fear is a funny thing."

* * *

Glancing over his shoulder, Simba sighed, and turned his head to the sky.

"It's me again," he began, his voice hoarse with the dust that clouded the dead air. "I know you probably don't care, I don't know if you can even hear me. I don't know a lot of things," he glanced down, "But, I do know that I'm going to keep trying." Silence. "I don't know why," Simba admitted. "But, I get the feeling you're up there, somewhere. I want to know why you did it. I'll never understand, but I want to hear it from you. I want you to look my in the eyes, I want to hear that you regret it. I want to hear that you're sorry you killed my father. You never said it. I need to hear you say it."

Above him, the moon shone through the clouds, its sharp pale light cutting over the bones that rose over him like fangs, streaming down the cliffs and crags.

"Dammit, Scar!" Simba growled. "You died a coward, is that what you'll always be? Come down here and say it!"

The wind whistled as it brushed through the land. Above him, the sky remained calm. There was no answer.


End file.
